


I've got you under my skin

by EpiKatt



Category: Charité | Charité at War (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Episode Remix, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 05:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30134433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EpiKatt/pseuds/EpiKatt
Summary: Just a more in-depth rewrite of the episode Zero HourorOtto gets shot and Martin has a gay panic.
Relationships: Otto Marquardt/Martin Schelling
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	I've got you under my skin

**Author's Note:**

> Got hit with a bout of depression in the middle of this so it took a while to finish it lol. Wrote the majority of this all at once tho.
> 
> Anyway hope you enjoy!
> 
> Title from Frank Sinatra.  
> (Any inaccuracies are on me)

Martin technically knew that Sauerbruch was aware of he and Otto’s relationship, but asking him to allow a deserter to wait out the invasion with them rather than just pretending not to notice was an entirely different thing. Still, when he said yes, Martin let out a shaky breath of relief and marched as fast as he could toward the upper floors of the hospital.

Silently cursing the stairs as always while he tried to get his uncooperative limb up the steps, he finally reached the right floor and quickly walked down the hall.

The ladder was his least favorite part for quite obvious reasons, but he bore it so Otto could get to a safer place. Where he could be protected; where Martin could keep an eye on him to tamp down on the anxiety he always felt when Otto was away, worry that something would happen and he wouldn’t be there to stop it.

Until then, Martin had brushed the fear off as irrational. As he finally managed to climb into the attic, he first thought Otto had fallen asleep, but something was off. He got nearer and froze, blood on the floor and a hole in the window. 

He suddenly snapped back to the present and rushed forward, clambering over the support beams while hearing Otto’s harsh coughs. 

Otto rolled onto his back as Martin stopped in front of him, fear written all over his features. 

Otto gave a tired smile with a weak chuckle to accompany it. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to tell you something,” he said quietly, like the words were a struggle, which Martin quickly realized was because they  _ were.  _

Martin slowly crouched down and gave Otto a quick once over, swallowing nervously at the sight of the blood coming from his stomach. He saw Otto swallow painfully and turn his face away, like he couldn’t bring himself to look Martin in the eyes.

What Martin would give for one carefree night. He briefly thought back to them in bed, his hand carding gently through Otto’s hair as they watched Karin. 

“Greetings to your wooden leg,” Otto joked, strained smile hurting Martin, how Otto was so casual about his own mortality being laid so plainly before him.

Martin had a split second to think about how he was going to get Otto up, he wasn’t able to lean down and just pick him up. He came to a decision after a moment, but knew it was going to be painful, for both of them.

“You’re going to have to help me, Otto,” he pleaded lowly.

Otto just blinked tiredly at him and Martin wasted no time. He slid his prosthetic leg behind him and settled his other leg into a kneel. 

He managed to grab Otto’s arm and began pulling him onto his back, but Otto started to slide off before he could stand. “Damn it,” he huffed, heart beating painfully against his ribs. 

Finally, he was able to get Otto to settle against his back and stay. “Good, just like that,” he panted, hauling himself up and barely able to keep standing after his leg threatened to buckle.

Martin would later be unable to recall the journey down to the bunker, but in those moments he only thought that this was the longest goddamn walk of his life. The ladder nearly killed him, and the stairs weren’t much better. He was a little past halfway, the final stretch which involved few stairs but a long hallway to replace them, and his shoulders were screaming at him to stop. 

As unwilling as he was to listen to his body’s demands, he couldn’t keep going like this. Slowly, carefully, he set Otto on the floor before putting his arms under Otto’s armpits and began dragging him. He didn’t like how limp Otto was, and his barely controlled panic was starting to overcome him. 

Another minute, and he saw the entrance as well as Russian soldiers crowding the hall from the stairs and trickling into the bunker itself.

“Sauerbruch!” Martin yelled, hoping to be heard over the din, but the lack of reaction wasn’t promising. 

Fully into the room, muscles screaming while trying to avoid the aggressive Russians, he dragged Otto toward where Martin had last seen Sauerbruch.

Before he could hand off Otto, a Russian halted him and motioned for someone to pass. Unable to keep his patience any longer, he yelled out again, voice desperate.

“Professor Sauerbruch! Marquardt was shot in the stomach!”

Immediately, Sauerbruch dropped what he was doing and rushed over, making Martin almost shudder in relief.

Sauerbruch leant down and grabbed Otto’s face, peering at him intently before motioning toward a table near the back. “Back there,” he instructed curtly.

Before Martin could really even move, one of the Russian soldiers stood. “Sauerbruch.” He motioned toward the Russian Sauerbruch had been working on previously.

“His injuries are more severe, understand?” Sauerbruch argued. “It’s an emergency, the other guy has time!”

The Russian sneered and pulled his pistol from his belt and held it aloft, aiming it at Sauerbruch pointedly.

Another soldier muttered tiredly to the man in Russian, which Martin wished he understood, but with the panic thrumming through him, he honestly doubted he’d be able to understand even if he could speak a little Russian.

When the one holding the gun didn’t listen, the one sitting stood up and yelled at him, presumably ordering the man to lower his weapon. At least, that’s what Martin hoped he was saying.

Finally, the gun was reluctantly lowered, and Martin felt like he could breathe a bit better. 

“Sauerbruch,” the nicer one said, quickly nodding toward Martin to say he could continue. 

The two wasted no time, with Sauerbruch taking Otto’s feet and the both of them carrying him back.

For the first few minutes, Sauerbruch and Margot worked in silence, with Martin dutifully manning the anesthesia. 

Suddenly, Sauerbruch spoke. “The iliac vein is damaged, Hoepfner’s forceps, quickly.”

“We’re out,” Margot replied.

“Whatever you have.”

Margot gave him a substitute instrument before Sauerbruch spoke again. “Fortunately, there is no arterial bleeding, but he’s lost too much blood.” Martin knew he was saying it in general, but he couldn’t help but feel that it was directed toward him.

“Pressure?” Sauerbruch prompted.

Snapping back to it, Martin swallowed before replying with a weak voice. “Ninety over sixty.”

“We need more volume,” Sauerbruch muttered.

“We have no infusions,” Margot said, worry plain in her voice.

“Anyone bloody type O?” Martin asked them, desperate.

All he got were head shakes from the three around the table. Turning toward the room at large, he pleaded; “Anyone blood type O?”

More head shakes. “Anyone blood type O!?” he begged once more.

“Please…”

He quickly ripped off his stethoscope and ran off to find Anni. He didn’t catch Sauerbruch’s defeated look as he left.

As he took the shortcut through the courtyard, he couldn’t help but stop and stare in disbelief at the nurse who’d nearly taken Otto from him multiple times, dead on the ground. A Russian soldier quickly urged him on, and Martin didn’t need any more motivation to keep moving.

Finding a hallway full of children, Martin knew Anni was near and looked around, relieved to see her turn a corner with Karin safely tucked against her side.

“Anni!” he called, stopping in front of her, out of breath. “What’s your blood type?”

“A, why?” she asked, eyebrow furrowing in confusion.

“Otto’s bleeding out,” he said bluntly. His last hope had just flickered out. The chances of finding someone with O in time now were slim to none. 

With no more preamble, Anni began following him quickly back to Otto in a tense silence.

When they arrived, it was to Sauerbruch placing gauze over Otto’s stomach.

“To the left,” Martin directed needlessly, as Anni was already rushing over to him.

“We stopped the bleeding, but he’s not out of the woods yet,” Margot said gently.

Before anyone was realising it, Karin had registered who she was looking at and began to cry, curling into her mother’s shoulder to bawl.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A few hours later and after things had calmed down a bit, Sauerbruch ordered Martin to take a break, so he ended up sitting near where Karin and Anni had taken up residence beside Otto’s bedside. 

Without quite realising it, Martin had the end of his glasses pressed against his lip, eyes red rimmed from holding back tears for so long. It would be ridiculous to cry over a coworker at a time like that, especially in front of unknowing eyes.

“His pulse is stable,” Anni murmured, turning to look at Martin.

Martin’s eyes widened and he slowly drew his glasses away from his face. 

“I think he’ll make it,” she said hopefully. After a moment; “He’ll be thirsty when he wakes.” The implication was clear.

“I’ll fetch some water,” replied Martin quickly.

He was nearly to the door when he heard a frantic, “Martin!”

He turned back around, saw Otto awake, and rushed back to his side.

“You had one more life back,” jokes Martin quietly, infinitely pleased when he garnered a smile.

“I’m thirsty,” Otto whispered roughly.

  
  
  


The next few weeks, or months, really, were tumultuous, to put it simply. They were all still all technically out of jobs, and the country was practically in ruins, but Martin and Otto had managed to acquire a small apartment in a mostly untouched part of the city amidst the chaos of the occupation. The landlord had been almost too happy to be rid of an empty property, as money was going to be undoubtedly even harder to come by.

In the uncertainty of what would happen to German deserters, it was kind of a given for Martin to be the only one to do the shopping. 

As it was, they were happy. Anni was clearly getting ready to divorce and leave, but she and Karin often stopped by and Otto and Martin always scrounged up enough ration coupons to form a modest, if slightly plain, dinner.

Coming home from getting some more books, he saw Otto stretched out on their couch, asleep. His mouth was partially open and a quiet snore could be heard from across the room.

Martin carefully made his way across the threshold and set the bag of books on the counter. He glanced down at his watch and decided they could skip dinner and go straight to bed. It wouldn’t be the first time. Martin mourned the chance of being able to see Otto with a bit more weight on him, but he couldn’t really be too upset since he was even able to have Otto at all. 

Martin made his way back over to Otto and gently shook his shoulder. “Love,” he urged.

Otto mumbled something and wrinkled his nose before cracking his eyes open.

“Mm?”

“C’mon. Let’s get you to bed. Did you not sleep well last night?”

Otto blinked and slowly sat up. “Got caught up in that one medical journal you found,” he admitted with a slight smile.

Martin let out an amused huff and rolled his eyes. “To bed with you, you heathen,” he ordered playfully, to which Otto just sighed and stood up.

They both made their way to bed, and Martin sat on the bed about to work on removing his prosthetic when Otto kneeled down and began unbuckling.

“You don’t-”

“How many times have we gone over this, I  _ want  _ to,” Otto insisted, gently tugging the prosthetic off. Martin hurriedly leaned back and snatched the ointment off the nightstand and handed it to Otto silently.

Otto twisted the cap off and gently started applying the cream, rubbing soothing circles over the inflamed skin. Martin couldn’t suppress a relieved sigh and relaxed back onto his hands.

After he decided that it was enough, Otto capped the lid and handed it back to Martin, who returned it to its former spot on the nightstand. 

Martin crawled back and slumped against the pillows before Otto joined beside him, tugging up the covers and pulling it over them.

Otto leaned over and switched off the lamp, wriggling closer to Martin, who certainly wasn’t going to complain.

“I noticed you brought more books,” Otto said quietly. 

“Mm,” Martin replied.

“Can’t wait to read them,” Otto murmured, turning to give Martin a deep kiss. Martin sighed, shoulders relaxing as he leaned into it. 

“Love you,” Martin sighed, pulling away and laying his head back on the pillow, silently content.

Otto smiled softly and gently thumbed Martin’s cheekbone. “And I, you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Writing the fluffy portion of this was surprisingly cathartic. These two deserve the best and there isn't enough media for them.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed <3


End file.
